


Be Still My Heart

by tocilar



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarf, Ered Luin, F/M, Lemon, One Shot, Pre-Hobbit, Smut, forever in my dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tocilar/pseuds/tocilar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur loves Kahvi but doesn't think he's good enough for her. Kahvi needs a night of rest and wants to spend it with her friend. Pre-Hobbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything Tolkien related or recognised. I own only the original characters and story that does not take place in the Hobbit. No profit is made of this story but the entertainment of its readers.

He pushed the fur skin back; weary eyed and dragging his feet. The meeting with Thorin and Dwalin had gone on longer than expected; both of them disagreeing with one another on numerous topics. Dwalin wanted them to move to the Ironhills, while Thorin refused claiming the journey through the mountains would be long and dangerous and the camp was too large to travel without notice. Bofur agreed and suggested the only outcome he knew; the Blue Mountains. There was little choice. They couldn't function as a society without a mountain around them and Bofur didn't want to return to Moria for more years of war.

Travelling west was a safer option. The only thing they had to worry about would be bandits and given the size of their camp; no bandits would dare encroach upon the party. Two hundred plus dwarves were quite a difficult target to take on easily.

The Blue Mountains had a king; or a leader to be precise, nothing but exiled dwarves lived among the ranges and while it would never be a true home it was a place of safety. They were a dying race as it was; so few children were being born.

At the thought of children and women Bofur's tired mind slipped to thoughts of a certain dark-haired, beardless, sweet healer. Camp had settled three days ago with four days left til their next move and in that time he had laid eyes upon her only fleetingly.

He missed her.

They had become close since she'd returned to the camp and he'd saved her from the poison. She spent her days and nights among the injured and sick and the sick were growing in numbers; winter was a harsh mistress.

Kahvi didn't have time for him; her job took preference and he knew that. The last thing Bofur wanted was to burden her while she had to work especially when he was but a friend.

That's all they were and he knew it was all they'd ever be. She was a highborn; beautiful despite not having a beard and passionate and fierce when need be. Bofur was but a miner playing warrior, a poor excuse of a warrior at that.

He was a fool to think that Kahvi would ever look at him the way he did her. His nights were plagued with dreams of soft supple porcelain skin pressed beneath him; full lips trailing kisses down his throat and skilled hands digging into the muscles of his back as her strong thighs held his hips.

Bofur's mood soured further at the memories of his most recent dream. For so long Bofur had never cared that a female wouldn't look twice at him and now that he did, he decided that he absolutely hated it. He didn't like the tightness in his belly or the foul taste that settled in his mouth and pain in his chest whenever he saw her with Thorin.

He was jealous of his friend. Jealous that Thorin could take Kahvi as his lover should he so choose. Bofur didn't like loathing the sight of his friend but of late, he felt his temper flare whenever in Thorin's presence and Kahvi was brought up.

Kahvi was not his. She was a free woman; she belonged to none and would for life if she so wanted.

Bofur scowled, setting his mattock by the entrance of his tent and letting the fur skin fall back into place. The warmth of an already burning fire made it feel like he was in a forge and the familiarity of his childhood settled him. His tent was larger than most others, a reminder of his position within the camp and yet it was only filled with what he needed; his mattock, a bed, a fire in the middle, a pile of logs and chippings and not much else.

Thorin's tent was grand; decorated with weapons and a table and chairs. He liked this piece of solace; enjoyed that he had a place to hide away in at the end of the day and brood over his thoughts.

Pulling his hat off, he rested it over the butt of his mattock and scrubbed a hand down his face. He was tired of this long journey and storm of emotions that plagued him.

He'd been so wrapped within his thoughts Bofur failed to notice the boot lying before him until he stepped on it.

Frowning, he crouched down and retrieved the discarded item. This wasn't one of his. He inspected it closely. They were of a fine make; sturdy, slender and most definitely female. Bofur owned only two pairs of boots; his own and a pair that had been given to him upon enlistment into the army; they were hard and capped with steel – they were made for war.

He reached up to stroke his chin when his eyes caught sight of another boot, similar to the first, upon the ground only a foot away.

He leaned across and picked it up but his eyes strayed to the ground again and found two gauntlets near the second boot.

What in the name of Mahal?

His eyes trailed the items; a pair of fingerless leather gloves, a coat of dark green, a pair of brown leather pants – His throat constricted as he realised the trail was leading to his bed. Bofur knew whose coat that was but part of him was screaming that he was tired and simply dreaming this.

Surely someone had just stumbled blindly into the wrong tent.

His heart began to beat faster in his chest, the blood rushing to his ears.

"Hello." He set the boot down and straightened up; he was too tired for games. "Look, I think ye might have stumbled into the wrong tent."

Bofur strode towards the back of the tent where his bed was hidden behind a large bear skin. Yanking the skin aside, all the while praying to Mahal that she would be on the other side and he was not simply dreaming this, Bofur's eyes bugged as his voice caught in his throat and his lower abdomen tightened viciously.

* * *

Thorin had ordered her to rest tonight; the other healers could mind the sick he'd barked out before dismissing her as Dwalin had entered. Despite being unhappy with the demand, Kahvi didn't return to the healing quarters. Clearly her trainees had informed Thorin of her current head in the clouds state. She wasn't able to focus on tasks. She wasn't truly tired, weary more than anything.

Kahvi loved helping the sick but in the last month given the ordeal of her own injury she was not as strong as she had been. Her shoulder ached towards the end of the day and there was only so much one could do to ease the pain.

Passing by Bofur's tent, Kahvi's thoughts drifted to him. Bofur; the always sweet, always endearing and ever cheerful miner turned warrior who had saved her life. She had barely laid eyes on him of late.

Kahvi missed his large honest smile and hstories. Winter was making it hard to find any time to rest properly; most waking moments she spent with the ill and injured – they needed her. Looking at the tent, she decided that her night of rest would be spent visiting a friend.

Let the few old crones among the caravan gossip about that!

She chuckled. It would be deemed highly inappropriate to spend time in Bofur's tent without any other present but it was Bofur's company she wanted tonight. Damn anyone to the blackest of chasms if they tried to stop her on this.

Drawing in a deep breath and a little courage, she strode for the flap of Bofur's tent. As she rapped on the frame of the entrance, Kahvi wiped her palms on her pants; they were clammy and warm. She shouldn't be nervous. This was Bofur. This was her friend.

Bofur was someone she wished her parents had found for her in the Ironhills to arrange a joining to. He was her ideal mate; he was hard working, he cared for others greatly, and he was humble. He didn't need a title or a warrior's honour to make him happy.

Kahvi sighed heavily when he didn't come to the entrance. He was probably checking on Bifur. After dragging her to safety during the ambush weeks back Bofur hadn't the chance to protect his cousins back and the poor toymaker had taken an axe to the skull - and lived!

She had been astounded to learn he had survived the ordeal but that they'd had to leave the axe buried in his skull. The once cheerful and alert dwarf was now gruff and couldn't speak a word of the common tongue. Bofur seemed to understand him well enough and the miner took good care of his cousin since the incident; just as he had with her until she'd recovered.

He'd not needed to do so but he had. His bed, tent and kindness had been hers for almost two weeks. She had enjoyed staying with him; he had not leered at her, nor been inappropriate when needing to change her shirt and bandaging.

She'd had no way of thanking him either. She possessed no coin or wares that he needed. Thorin kept her as his ward for the time being given her situation and she knew she'd be forever indebted to him for it.

Kahvi decided she'd wait until Bofur returned from wherever he was at present and eased the skin flap to the side and ducked into the tent.

Warmth welcomed her.

The place had not changed. Even with the weekly move, Bofur's tent remained the same as it had been. Simple and practical but welcoming nonetheless. Rubbing her arms, Kahvi edged about, inspecting what she could.

When Bofur still did not return, she grew restless. She wanted to see him but another part of her warred that he probably did not want to be hassled by some beardless female. With a heavy sigh, she almost made to leave when she noticed something among his collection of items near the door.

Her heart beat a little faster in her chest and her cheeks darkened despite none other being present. He had kept her knife. The dagger she'd had hidden on her the first night they met when she'd mended his thigh.

The very dagger she had used to kill her first Orc with. She could still remember in vivid detail dragging the blade across its throat, silencing its cries. The one he'd used to protect her from the second Orc who had found its way into the infirmary in a night raid, almost crippling himself in the process. She'd given him such trouble for his actions but had been grateful nonetheless that she had not been required to take another life; Orc or not.

As she thought back upon that night and the nights that followed she came to realize that from the moment they'd laid eyes on one another they'd done nothing but save each other from death's hold.

Glancing about the tent once more Kahvi came to a decision.

This felt right.

She didn't want to be alone. When she'd taken the path of the healer, amidst an already bleak future due to her beardless appearance, Kahvi had always figured no one would want her that in the end for all the good she had and would do, the ancestors would still punish her with loneliness for breaking tradition.

If he did not feel as strongly as she did, Kahvi would maintain their friendship nonetheless. This was about both of their choices; Kahvi had made hers – she wanted a life filled with joy and a mate who welcomed her without judgement and Bofur was that mate in her eyes.

She crouched down and began hastily tugging at the laces of her boots. Toeing each off, she set one down near the entrance and the other a little further in. Her gauntlets were the next to go. Bit by bit her clothing was removed as she made her way to the back of the tent where his bed lay.

Standing nude before the bed, Kahvi shivered from nerves or anticipation of what she was about to do she did not know, nor did she care. Kahvi wanted this, needed this. Bofur was a step towards a life that had once been far out of her reach in the Ironhills. Gathering up one of the furs, she wrapped it about her torso and eased herself onto the bed, sighing a little at the familiar smell of smoke and earth that came with Bofur.

Whether her approach worked or not, Kahvi at least had tried. It was a drastic attempt but given that Bofur while endearingly honest would never act without encouragement, Kahvi knew she had to make the first step.

Shuffling drew her attention and she eased herself up onto her knees, adjusting the fur slightly she ran a hand through her hair, ruffling it. Here went nothing.

* * *

There she knelt; smiling shyly, dark hair tussled wildly and looking up at him from beneath long lashes.

"By Mahal," he breathed softly, the blood rushing to his ears.

Kahvi's hair tumbled over her bare shoulders as she held a large pelt about her torso that barely covered to mid-thigh. Sweat formed at his temples. He licked his lips as he clenched his hand tighter into the fur skin; fingers itching to reach out and touch her.

His eyes slipped to where her free hand tugged at the end of the pelt. "I'm where I wish to be," she whispered, breaking the tense silence. Her cheeks were flushed; a sign she was nervous. Mahal, she was nervous?! He was nervous.

Mahal – what was she wearing beneath that pelt?

Bofur's chest tightened. Had she really just said that? She was where she wanted to be. He prayed this wasn't some elaborate dream – this needed to be real; he couldn't take it if this was a dream.

"Kahvi," he murmured, eyes dilating as they roved the expanse of bare milky white legs. She looked beautiful. He had never wanted something so much before in his life. "You're a highborn."

He regretted saying it almost as soon as he had; wished he could swallow the words back down and say something more romantic; more endearing. She laughed softly, throwing him a little.

She shuffled forward on her knees until she was mere inches from him. "Not here, not anymore. Here, I'm just like you. I'm just Kahvi the healer," she said, laying her hand upon his chest.

Bofur ducked his head, bringing his own hand up to cover her smaller and softer pale fingers. They were opposites; he was so roughened, calloused and tanned whereas she was all curves, suppleness and pale as the moon. Mahal had blessed her with such uniqueness; such beauty and gift.

He prayed a silent thank you to Mahal for gifting his life with her and that she was here tonight.

Kahvi leaned in ever so slowly, making his breath catch and heart seize in his chest as she tilted her head up to his in order to press her full lips chastely against his.

He smiled against her mouth; his grip tightening upon her hand. "Kahvi," he whispered into her as he reached up to thread a hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, drawing her closer as he sunk into the kiss, tongue darting out to sweep across her bottom lip.

"Do you want me to stay or go?" she inquired hesitantly, pulling back to study his face.

He ran his hand down her jaw, stroking her smooth cheek as she watched him. He grinned softly, cupping the side of her face fully and tilting her head up more to his. "You belong here. If I told you to go, darlin' you'd be takin' my poor, cracked heart with you."

Her eyes brightened, the worry gone as she smiled. Such a moment Bofur wished he could capture for eternity for the swell of emotion in those stormy grey eyes made him proud. "Bofur," she breathed, leaning in to press her lips to the spot just below his ear, teeth nipping at his lobe around his earring. "Come to bed."

The gravity of the situation settled upon him then. She wanted him to take her to his bed; wanted him to claim her. Kahvi wanted to be his lover. All this time, all those lonely nights he had feared she would never love him in the way he did and yet here she was, kneeling in nothing but a pelt, upon his furs and in his tent, asking for him to join her.

Steady hands, so use to swinging a mattock in the mines and then upon the battle field, now trembled in anticipation as he reached for her thigh. He wanted her pressed against him. Wanted to rip the pelt from her and bare her completely – wanted to make his dreams real tonight.

Bofur didn't care about anything but this, didn't care that their world was so messed up and dangerous. Kahvi was his world tonight. It mattered not that there was no hair on her face. She didn't protest as his hand bunched up the end of the pelt, skimming along her thigh. He felt her tremble.

It still marvelled him that he was her choice of mate. He was no brave warrior. He was poor and lived with his younger brother and cousin; a cousin that now needed to be watched much more closely. Yet she had chosen him.

With a shaky breath, Bofur slipped his hand beneath the fur and ran it along her thigh, curving it up to her meaty hip. She would never have to worry over her looks for he loved her how she was and always would.

Nothing covered her hip and he felt his lower abdomen tighten deliciously at the knowledge of only his clothing and a fur separating them from each other.

He leaned in and captured her mouth in a kiss; lips pressing gently to hers and tongue sweeping across her bottom lip. A whimper left her as her lips parted and his tongue darted in to dance with hers tentatively. He'd never kissed a woman. The few that he had very shamefully fallen into bed were but whores in the human village outside the mountains. He had wanted to know what women felt like but they came with rules where he was concerned; no kissing and no staying. Bofur had never cared much for any of them. It gave him enough experience to know what to do with Kahvi but the intimacy of this was incredible greater and meant so much more.

After tonight no other would or could take Kahvi from him, he wouldn't let them.

She would be his and his alone; he'd guard her from any danger, would shelter her always and would love her beyond question.

Her hand slipped to the ties of his coat as she broke their kiss. Kahvi drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she eyed him for a moment. "I think I need two hands for this," she said quietly and before Bofur could ask the fur pelt slid from about her and his eyes widened.

By Mahal.

The pelt tumbled about her as he stared openly and unashamedly. She was more beautiful than any gold or jewel he'd ever seen. Breasts that made his mouth water, a waist that dipped in ever so slightly and gave way to full, meaty hips.

He loved that she wasn't bony like those women had been. He could ask for nothing more in his mate. She was perfect for him; kind and caring, intelligent and fierce, voluptuous and warm.

His hand slipped up her waist and brushed the underside of her breast as his other hand gripped her hip. Did she even realise he wanted to just shove her back and take her? That it was taking every ounce of will he had not to do so; that her smile alone could take his breath away and make him harden painfully?

Bofur swooped in and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss, pressing hard as her fingers reached to undo the ties of his coat.

She squeaked when his thumb brushed her nipple suddenly and he groaned. Cupping her breast, he rolled his thumb over the hardening peak again and grinned as she pressed into his hand, shuddering and moaning softly. So pliant, responsive and eager for his touch.

Her hands pushed his coat from his shoulders.

Bofur released her only long enough to shrug it the rest of the way off. As he returned to her, she pushed herself up so she stood upon the furs and a good head above him. Turning his gaze up, he slid warm palms about her waist and grinned as her hands cupped his face gently, fingers brushing over his skin like feathers.

He shut his eyes and sighed heavily leaning into the caress. "Have you ever?"

Dark eyes met grey. She was nervous. He caught one of her hands and turned his lips into her palm, kissing it before leaning up and pressing his mouth to hers. "Human women hardly match up to your warmth; tavern wenches with more lust for coin than me."

She smiled softly at his phrasing and nodded.

Bofur tightened his grip around her waist as he bent his head to trail a line of kisses across her jaw and down her slender throat. "Did you kiss them?"

He chuckled against her collarbone and reached round to grab one of her plump ass cheeks earning a soft grunt from her and her hands burying into his thick hair. "Never. You're the only woman I want to kiss Kahvi."

"And grope," she mumbled haughtily. Bofur grinned, smacking her rump slightly for the tone before ducking his head and running his tongue across her nipple. She gasped, tightening her grip on his hair and humming as he captured the bud between his teeth.

Her body curved into his and he moaned softly as he felt her hips pushing into his belly through his clothing.

Mahal, he needed to get the rest of his clothes off. He needed to feel her against him without the restrictions and now. He broke away from her, pulling his grey scarf from his neck and tugging his gloves off.

"Lay down," he said, nodding to the furs she stood on. Kahvi sunk down onto the furs, pale flesh standing out amongst the dark vividly. As he tugged at his tunic, Bofur noticed her shifting upon the furs, her legs bent and hips turned, trying to shield herself. He leaned down, catching her calf and grinning softly at her.

His fingers curved up smooth skin, marvelling at the difference in her before he eased her knees apart. She was blushing furiously as Bofur knelt between her thighs, her hands shook and her breathing was shaky. He put one upon her heart and gently eased her back.

His mouth sought hers as her back met the furs; hungry for the contact. She dug her fingers into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as his fingers started to divest the rest of his clothes.

When only his boots, pants and under clothing remained, Bofur had to pull back and straighten from the bed in order to finish stripping. He almost fell when trying to tug his boots off, making Kahvi giggle and roll onto her belly to watch him from the side as he tossed his boots away.

He growled playfully and unbuckled his belt before shimming out of his pants. Last came his underclothes. Kahvi's cheeks burned crimson as he pushed it down to his hips. He stopped himself when he noticed how she averted her gaze.

He moved and positioned himself over her hips, running a finger up her spine lightly and grinning as she shivered. He shuffled back as he told her to get up on her knees. She did so and Bofur slid an arm about her waist, tugging her back until her back met his chest and his lips assaulted her throat as he slid his free hand low across her belly.

She trembled in his grip leaning back upon him as his fingers dipped into the curls between her thighs. Her startled whimper pleased him as he ran a finger along her folds, teasing her. Her hips rocked in the slightest. Bofur wrapped his hand about her throat, thumb stroking her pulse as he slid his finger further into her heat; earning a moan and racing pulse.

"Bofur," she whispered as he found the bundle of nerves a whore had spoken to him of one night and brushed his thumb against it. Kahvi's skin was warm, her breath short and her hips raised ever so with his touches.

"I don't want to wait," he mumbled into her shoulder, nipping at her skin.

Kahvi hummed and tried to stammer out a reply as he slid one finger into her entrance and she tensed within his arms. He knew what to expect, he knew Kahvi wouldn't be entirely naive to how this would go but he knew that as far as knowing facts and experiencing it first hand were two very different things.

He curled his finger within her, earning a strangled moan of yes from Kahvi's soft, plump lips. He grinned, happy to feel her relax into him again.

His patience was wearing. Kahvi had come here for him and he wanted her so badly that he ached at the feel of her rear brushing against him. He grunted and then leaned forward, murmuring for her to roll onto her back. She did and he saw her eyes dart down to his hips before lightly flushed cheeks became scarlet in embarrassment. Bofur ran his hands along her thighs, whispering for her to relax.

Bofur wanted to cause her as little pain as possible. She nodded, tilting her head back onto the furs and shutting her eyes as he leaned down to press kisses to her belly before craving a path up her torso and to her lips.

As their mouths met, he lifted her legs to rest about his hips. Kahvi tightened them about him, drawing him closer to her heat and making him groan softly as her hands clutched at his biceps.

He caught her chin gently and made her look him in the eyes. "You're sure?" he murmured.

Kahvi flexed her hands round his biceps and drew in a shaky breath. "I'm sure, Bofur," she whispered back, smiling softly at him.

He leaned in and kissed her, distracting her as he eased himself down against her heat and pushed into her. She tensed, groaning at the intrusion as Bofur stilled for a second, afraid she might tell him to stop. Her legs tightened upon him, pulling him in closer and he sunk in deeper.

Bofur growled at the tight, hot feel of Kahvi round him.

Pushing past that final barrier, he winced a little as Kahvi broke their kiss to cry out but he didn't halt this time until he was seated fully into her; hips flush against hers. He buried his head into her neck, lips pressing to skin behind her ear as he ran a hand along her thigh, massaging the flesh in hopes to ease the tension in her.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her throat. He knew this was hardly a memorable first time, knew that he wouldn't last, knew that he should've spent more time worshipping her. Next time he would make sure that she was begging for him before he took her.

He was exhausted. Give him a few hours sleep and some food and he would show Kahvi exactly how much he loved her.

"Don't be," she replied softly, shifting her hips a little as her nails slackened from his skin and he moaned weakly into her skin at the pleasure that spiked through him.

Bracing his weight on one arm, Bofur pushed himself up and slid a hand beneath Kahvi's lower back. He withdrew slowly, growling as she tightened round him.

He wouldn't last. She felt too good, too warm and tight and perfect for him.

Thrusting back in, he watched her face as her eyes slipped shut and her head tilted back. She constricted round him, legs and arms coiling about him and holding him as close as she could.

Bofur groaned at the friction. Kisses and caresses were slow and lazy, worshipping what skin he could easily each.

* * *

Kahvi felt bad. She could see how tired Bofur was. Could feel it in the kisses he trailed along the hollow of her throat. Perhaps she should have waited to do this. The poor man was so tired he probably would pass out by the end.

She tunneled a hand into his hair, pulling his lips up to hers. Using the furs as leverage she rolled them over, pushing Bofur down into the soft fur and straddling his waist. His eyes were wide in surprise as she settled back down upon him, hands gripping her hips tightly as she rocked her hips experimentally.

He growled, blunt nails digging into her hips and pulling her harder down upon him as she used his belly for support.

She watched the muscles in his neck tense, saw the way his arm muscles bunched coil as he helped raise her up from him, the dark gaze that swept over her body with its now improved view.

She gasped as he tugged her down a little harsher and felt a shot of pleasure crawl up her spine. Moaning softly she asked him to do it again. He chuckled deeply and did as she asked drawing a strangled moan from her, nails raking across his belly.

The pace increased, Bofur's grunts and growls tangled with her moans as she leaned over and kissed him and sweat began to slick their skins. The heat in the tent grew; Kahvi's skin felt too tight.

Her belly was clenching viciously, a coil winding and winding and winding within her. She shuddered as Bofur's hand cupped her breasts.

His sounds of pleasure were intoxicating; his hands felt so good on her skin, his body tensing beneath hers radiated power.

She cried out. Bofur's thumb pressed to her clit, rubbing and adding pressure to her already impending climax and almost dislodging her from his hips.

He grunted and mumbled something in their native tongue; too soft for her too catch properly.

"Let go Kahvi," he said.

She shook her head. She wanted him to fall over the edge with her, wanted him to join her on this, scared that she might not find her way back without him.

"I want you to," he encouraged, thumb pressing down harder to her clit. She whimpered and tightened about him as she did let go.

The coil snapped, her vision was blinded by a white burst of light, her body trembled and she bit her lip as she leaned her head back when Bofur thrust into her a little sharper and then stilled beneath her, hips barely shifting as he breathed heavily.

Coming back down from her high, she bowed her head to her chest and glanced at Bofur who was watching her with a soft smile curling the corners of his mouth. She returned it, even as her body shivered in the wake of her climax.

He released her and Kahvi lifted herself off him, missing the intimate contact almost as soon as she did. He shifted over and let her lay down upon her side. He rolled onto his and curled an arm about her waist, drawing her into his chest.

She pressed a kiss to the skin over his heart as he tugged a fur across their bodies.

Bofur nuzzled his body up into hers, making her giggle as his beard tickled her and wrapped himself about her. "I love you," he sighed after he had settled, eyes shut and his breathing already slowing.

"And I you," she said, running a hand through his hair and relaxing down into the warmth of his arms where she fell into the first peaceful sleep she'd had in weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi guys, so I've stopped writing fanfiction for a while now - I do apologise to those who were hoping I would continue my stories in the fandoms but I decided to focus on my original content instead. 

In saying that - I am working on converting and updating my one-shots like this one into a new, clean, non-fandom piece. My writing has improved during my absence and as such I decided that I loved these works and wanted them as a way to silently remember all that fanfiction has taught me over the years.

A number of my base concepts in my larger works - such as Things We Owe with Nora's past and my gargoyle story in the I, Frankenstein fandom (My future Immortals series is on dragon shifters, werewolves, gargoyles, etc) and the like are going to appear in my future original works. I just wanted to let those who were waiting on updates of these know why I've been gone so long. 

I am sorry for those who have been waiting for updates it was never my original intention to completely abandon them but I just didn't have the time to work on them while studying, working and then trying to get other things written.

Love,  
Eileen Parry <3


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